


Lab Accidents

by mystiri1



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anthropomorphism - Freefom, Community: areyougame, Kemonomimi, M/M, Mad Science, Shinra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After routine shots result in some startling changes, Hojo is called before the board.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lab Accidents

i.

 

The atmosphere in the boardroom of ShinRa Electric Power Company was one of tense expectation. The various department heads spent far too long vying with each other for money and power to have any fellow-feeling for their counterparts; today one of them was going to fall, and hard. That it was Hojo, who had had the biggest slice of the budget for years now, was an added bonus. The only thing preventing them from showing the degree of jubilation they felt at such an event was the fear it could be them next.

That fear was what had Veld feeling smug and satisfied. The Turks were often shrugged off as unimportant by ShinRa’s executives; they were used as bodyguards, lackeys and errand-boys. In doing so, they forgot just what the Turks really were. They were ShinRa’s junkyard dogs, and they were there to serve a purpose. The others could brag about their military victories, scientific discoveries, and newest weapons and hardware, but every move they made the Turks were watching. His more practical side knew that being overlooked was good - people revealed so much more when they were unaware of being watched - but it was only human to chafe a little at the disrespect, and forgetting the human element was something Veld didn’t do, even in regards to himself. So for now he enjoyed the fact that the other department heads quickly looked away when he looked at them, not wanting to draw his attention. They’d forget again, soon enough.

The doors opened, and Tseng was the first to enter. He nodded in acknowledgment to the man sitting at the head of the table. “Mr President.” Veld also got a nod of the head before Tseng moved around to stand beside him, laying a series of folders out on the surface of the table. The other board members were dismissed as irrelevant, and truthfully, there was only one person whose opinion mattered at the end of the day.

That was where this could all go south, Veld thought with a mental sigh. It didn’t matter what evidence they had against Hojo if President ShinRa chose to shelter the man who had long been his ‘favourite’ from the consequences of his actions.

There were more people entering now. Hojo, whose usual arrogance looked a bit shaken, escorted by Reno and Rude. The largest of the pair was as impassive as ever, while Reno wore his habitual smirk, unimpressed by the inhabitants of the room. In a delightful turn of events, there had been no need to ‘apprehend’ the scientist when his misdeeds come to light; instead he’d been demanding protective custody, as Sephiroth was distinctly… unamused by this latest turn of events.

“If the General really comes to kill the bastard, do I haveta do anything? ‘Cos, as much as I excel at kickin’ ass, I ain’t gonna survive gettin’ in his way,” Reno had complained.

“If you can show signs of being heroically wounded in the attempt, I will consider that sufficient,” Veld acknowledged.

“Aw, man. You gonna tell Sephiroth that, boss?” But he’d done as he was told, because that was what Turks did, and Veld was willing to admit being relieved that it hadn’t come to that. It would be a pity to lose some of his best men to the General’s bad temper. They took so long to train to his standards.

Scurrying behind them, looking not so much impressed as incredibly nervous, was another man in a white lab-coat. Clutching a clipboard full of papers to his chest, he glanced around the room, as if trying to figure out where he should be. After a moment’s hesitation, he seemed to settle for staying where he was, hanging back from the table itself as Hojo was ‘assisted’ in seating himself in a plain chair at the end.

“If everybody’s here, shall we get on with this, then?” the President asked impatiently.

“The… general will not be attending?” Scarlet inquired. She looked disappointed.

“It would be unwise to place General Sephiroth and Professor Hojo in the same room, at the moment,” Heidegger smirked. “I do understand he is waiting nearby should we decide on call on him, however.” He slid a dagger-sharp look at Hojo, who had been seated at the end of the table. Reno and Rude stood behind him, looming in a way that suggested he’d better not try to move.

Hojo sniffed. “I am ready whenever you are, President. I certainly hope we can resolve any questions you might have about my research.”

“I have plenty of questions.” Something in the President’s tone gave the impression that he wasn’t happy – but then, the elder ShinRa was not the kind to take any kind of embarrassment lightly, and he had to be feeling some over this. Sephiroth was one of their most public figures, an incomparable warrior that the PR department had held up as a hero for the masses to worship, and the ranking officer of the SOLDIER programme. “Veld? Perhaps you will inform the rest of the board precisely why we are here today?”

“Falsification of research data, unauthorised research and abuse of company resources.” He delivered the charges in a level tone.

Hojo’s smugness slipped just a little. Unexpected consequences were one thing, and easily explained away. The way Veld had phrased it, the issue was not simply a case of unforeseen results, but money. All those many years where Hojo had received the lion’s share of funds for his research. It made everyone else sit up and pay attention, as well.

ShinRa was a company where money talked, and when it did, everybody listened.

“Start at the beginning.”

“Project S was begun as a subsidiary of the JENOVA Project, to see what effects could be achieved by infusing an unborn child with genetic material taken from the JENOVA specimen.” There were a lot of details Veld was leaving out, as they remained classified, and he could see the curiosity of the other board members as they put together ‘Project S’ and Sephiroth. It was common knowledge among the executives that Sephiroth had undergone extensive modifications – all the SOLDIERs had, to a certain degree - and both the General’s youth when he rose to prominence within their military branch and the proprietary way Hojo acted towards him suggested he had been in ShinRa’s laboratories from a very young age. This was the first confirmation of that, however. Most of them were listening intently, looking for some information they could use, but Veld noticed an expression of discomfort on the face of Reeve Tuesti, the latest head of Urban Development, and, to his surprise, Scarlet also seemed disturbed by the revelation. It was the first time he’d ever seen any signs that the driven career woman had anything resembling maternal instincts.

Veld had considered carefully how he would phrase his words. It went against the grain to reveal classified information, even to ShinRa’s own people. The result was a compromise between maintaining the highest possible degree of security without weakening the evidence against Hojo. The President already knew the background information; everybody else was getting only the barest facts. This was as much a show as a trial. A warning to others. “The treatments continued post-birth, including further exposure to mako to heighten any potential JENOVA traits, as well as extensive tests and training. The results of this research were used to further augment the SOLDIER programme, and were the basis on which large amounts of funding was granted for additional research.”

“Yes, I have given you an awful lot of money over the years, haven’t I, Hojo?” the President said in a dark tone. “And it was all based on a lie.”

“But it wasn’t a lie, sir! My research bore exemplary results -”

“Yet the genetic material did not come solely from the JENOVA specimen, did it, Professor?” Veld’s voice was as smooth as scalpel, so that it took a few moments for the words to sink in.

Hojo looked away, and shrugged dismissively. “That was an accident. A discrepancy – the JENOVA material was delivered in a series of shots, and only one of them held the incorrect retroviral modifier, therefore the JENOVA specimen was the primary source and should really be considered the dominant factor in the initial-”

“Genetic modification as a result of JENOVA cell implantation was all you reported to the company, Professor Hojo. And it was the basis on which you were granted additional funding.”

“My results speak for themselves! One simple mistake does not invalidate all of that!”

“That is up for the board to decide,” Veld replied. “What was the source of the other material?”

Hojo’s face darkened. “That annoying Pritchard woman,” he snarled. “It was all that stupid bitch’s fault!”

Tseng stepped forward, and flicked open a folder. He flipped through it, then selected several pages, handing a copy first to the President, then to Veld. Heidegger craned his neck as if that would allow him to discern the contents. Veld ignored him.

“Eloise Pritchard, doctorate in animal biology from Kalm University. She wrote her thesis on isolating genetic codes to allow for selection of distinct physical traits in domesticated species. She worked in the Nibelheim facility for four years, but left prior to the commencement of Project S.” Tseng reported the facts without once needing to refer to the sheet of paper, staring impassively at the far wall instead. Veld allowed himself a small smile. The first step to finding out anything was uncovering which questions needed to be asked. No information, however small, was ever wasted, and it was pleasing to see that his protégé had learned that particular lesson well.

“And if Dr Pritchard left the Nibelheim facility before the project was fully underway, how was she able to sabotage your work, Professor?”

Hojo’s voice dropped to something that was barely a mutter. “It wasn’t… sabotage.”

“I would appreciate it if you would speak so that everyone in this room can hear you, Professor. We don’t want any misunderstandings to arise.”

“She was obsessed. There’s a woman who abused company resources – all in the name of her ridiculous hobby. _Cats_ ,” he hissed. “Repulsive, vicious creatures they are, ungrateful, uncooperative – how anybody could practically worship the things the way she did -”

“Answer the question already!” the President snapped.

Hojo sniffed. “She abused company resources – was trying to improve her favourite breeds using laboratory facilities. I was glad to see the back of her when she left, always going on about how she’d placed at the last cat show she took part in. Cat shows! When I was working on groundbreaking scientific research! I was working incredibly long hours, understaffed, under-funded – how was I to know she’d left some samples behind?” He sounded quite indignant.

“And those samples were?”

“ _Felis catus_. I believe the breed is commonly known as the Persian cat.”

There was a snicker from Scarlet, and muffled sounds that suggested others found it equally funny. Veld gave the woman an icy stare, which helped to hide his own amusement at the revelation. Not that a Sephiroth with little white kitty-ears and a bushy white tail wasn’t amusing in itself. “I suggest you be careful how you express your sense of humour around the general, Director Scarlet. The last wag who thought it amusing to refer to him as ‘General Fluffy’ is still in the infirmary. I understand he will regain full use of both arms with physical therapy, but the broken jaw means he’ll be eating through a straw for some time.”

He turned back to Hojo. “You never reported this incident, however. You continued to maintain it was the JENOVA cells that were responsible for the modifications in the general.”

“It could have been the JENOVA cells! Over two dozen injections against one mistake? Why would anybody think the cat genes would prove dominant? The earliest observable mutation was at birth, but the eyes could still have been a result of the JENOVA treatment! We didn’t have enough data to know otherwise! And as I did produce the super-SOLDIER the project was aiming for, I don’t think a minor discrepancy in the paperwork should be such a big issue!”

A minor discrepancy in paperwork that related to billions of gil in military funding, Veld thought cynically, but the tone of offense was very well done.

“Yet it is only recently other changes have manifested themselves,” Veld pointed out. “If this one mistake is responsible, why has it not shown itself before now?”

“It’s the booster shots.” Hojo said the words as if it should have been self-explanatory.

“Booster shots?” Veld prodded.

“Yes, all the SOLDIERs have them.” Hojo didn’t look inclined to elaborate. The expression he wore suggested that anybody who didn’t know that was mentally deficient, and not worth his time.

It really was a wonder somebody hadn’t shot the man years ago, Veld thought tiredly. And as one of the people looking less than enlightened by this was President ShinRa, the question of who in this room was mentally deficient was open for debate. “It’s just another mako injection, isn’t it?”

“Hardly,” the head of the Science Department sneered.

“Dr Richard McAllister,” the unidentified man in the lab coat jumped at Tseng’s words, “is the current head of the Medical Department. As we have been unable to fully trust the information coming from the Science Department in this matter, he has been assisting us with our enquiries. Dr McAllister?”

“The booster shots,” the other scientist stammered, “are calibrated for each individual S-SOLDIER, according to body weight and metabolic rates.” He paled as everybody looked at him, but continued on. “They have them every four to six months, because they need to maintain a certain level of mako in their systems. They’re designed to maintain that level, and still ensure a resistance to absorbing any unrefined mako, or mako by-products, the SOLDIER might be exposed to in the field. They’re quite carefully tailor-made,” he slid a sideways look at Hojo, and then plunged ahead, “but they shouldn’t contain anything except the refined mako we use in the treatments, and the specific antibodies for each SOLDIER.”

“So you’re saying Sephiroth’s booster shot shouldn’t have had anything other than these antibodies and mako?” Veld asked.

“N-no, sir. Nothing capable of those k-kinds of alterations.”

“Hmmph.” Hojo shot his colleague a look that suggested he’d better not wander into any unoccupied corridors any time soon. “Sephiroth has always been the preferred test subject for any new adaptations to the SOLDIER treatment.”

“That would seem unwise when he is now in a position of some responsibility,” Veld observed.

“Yes, Hojo,” Heidegger sneered, “you’re telling us you routinely inject the head of our strongest military unit with unknown substances? And what if this adversely affects his abilities in the field? You could be placing us all at risk!”

“Not unknown substances, Heidegger, untested – on human subjects, at least. Each of those trials was carefully researched by me before commencing.” Hojo drew himself up in self-righteous indignation. “The risk was minimal. And Sephiroth remained the preferred test subject despite his position because he has the greatest chance of surviving any adverse affects.”

“So there is some risk,” Scarlet needled, “the risk you will destroy a military asset in which this company has invested billions over the years.”

“My prototype is stronger than that!”

“And the sudden development of certain physical features better suited to four-legged species by your prototype? What was that, another late night and not enough coffee? I’m sure the general will be happy to accept your reassurance that next time you’ll get a good night’s sleep before testing whatever crackpot theories you’ve come up with on him.” She smirked. “Just as soon as he gets over wanting to kill you for making him look like a giant kitty-cat.”

“You keep sneering at it, yet my experiments proved successful! The fact that he has certain feline characteristics does not stop Sephiroth from being a great warrior! Indeed, I told you those animals are vicious! They also,” he sniffed, “have a superior sense of balance, excellent night vision, and great agility. Once I realised that the additional DNA had not been entirely detrimental, I looked at ways to capitalise on it, instead. The ears and tail are minor cosmetic details.”

“I’m not sure everyone will agree on those details being that minor, but let’s move on to the second subject,” Veld interrupted, knowing that if Scarlet and Hojo got into a mudslinging match, they could be there awhile. Scarlet felt her weapons development programme was too often sidelined in favour of Hojo’s biological experiments, and Hojo simply had no respect for any research that wasn’t his own. “Tseng.”

Tseng retrieved another set of documents, placing a copy before the President. “Zackary Fair, 17 years old, born in Gongaga. Enlisted at the age of 14, accepted into the SOLDIER programme at 15 – one of the youngest ever. His combat skills, leadership ability, and the fact that he can get on with anyone – even Sephiroth – led to his rapid advancement to First Class. In fact, he is one of the few SOLDIERs to have served repeatedly with Sephiroth, at the general’s own request. They appear to have established a friendship outside of their joint missions. After his last treatment – a booster shot that coincided with the general’s most recent injection – he was left with ears and a tail that have tentatively been identified as canine in origin.”

“He’s a dog?” the President asked incredulously.

“It’s lupine DNA, actually. Wolf, not dog,” Hojo elaborated. He wore a smug expression, as if at any moment he was expecting to be applauded for his own genius. “I used the Nibel Wolf, as it was the most impressive in its combat abilities.”

“And for what reason did you decide to alter Major Fair using wolf DNA?” Veld continued.

“It stood to reason that if feline DNA had potential benefits, so did others. A wolf is a dangerous predator with a good deal of stamina. It’s also a pack animal, which should ensure a strong degree of loyalty. I thought it would make a nice change from Sephiroth, who is every bit as uncooperative and ungrateful as those awful cats.” His tone was almost sulky.

Veld didn’t think he’d feel at all grateful to Hojo in Sephiroth’s place, especially after a lifetime of dealing with the man. “Did you seek any authorisation for this experiment?”

“Of course not. It was a minor adaptation, and part of my ongoing research.”

“You used ShinRa lab facilities and resources, as well as ShinRa personnel?”

“No, I did it at home in my kitchen,” Hojo said sarcastically. “Of course I did. But I told you, it was part of my ongoing research. No additional authorisation should have been needed, because the scientific aspects of the SOLDIER programme fall under my purview, anyway.”

“And the trooper from the security department?” Heidegger growled, bristling like a dog whose territory was being challenged. “Who is not part of the SOLDIER programme, and you experimented on without my permission?”

“Yes, who is this trooper you meddled with, and why would you choose him?” President ShinRa said, somewhat petulantly.

Tseng once again handed him a file. “Cloud Strife, born in Nibelheim, enlisted at age 14. Turns 16 next month. Signed up for the SOLDIER programme, but failed to qualify on medical grounds.”

“What grounds? I’m not wrong in thinking what he was given was SOLDIER augmentation, am I?”

“Of a sort, Mr President, sir,” Dr McAllister explained. “The initial treatments for the SOLDIER programme cause the most extensive changes. They can be extremely difficult, so we aim to pick the strongest individual candidates which meet the psychological requirements. Our experience has shown that where physical maturity has not been reached, it can sometimes cause additional rapid growth, which further stresses the body’s limits. Strife was refused entry due to his size and youth – he’s rather small and it was possible he wouldn’t survive the initial treatment. He was told to reapply in a few years, I believe.”

“At which point he would have been under my care anyway,” Hojo sniffed. “Really, all I did was hurry things along a little.”

“The initial treatment was apparently administered when Strife reported for the annual ‘flu vaccinations. He fell ill shortly after, and it was assumed that it was a result of a bad batch of vaccine. Sometimes the virus in the vaccination is not inactive as it is supposed to be, and it can result in the person contracting the ‘flu.”

“What!? Are you telling me the ‘flu shot can actually give you the ‘flu? Why wasn’t I told this?” the President demanded, eyes widening. The annual ‘flu shots were a company wide-occurrence among the corporate and military branches alike, and even the President received them.

“It’s very rare, sir. And it’s only ever a mild case, nothing serious.” The scientist hunched down a little under the withering glare of his employer. “Dr Hojo was of course consulted, particularly when it appeared the sickness was quite virulent. He administered several other injections, although we haven’t yet determined what they were. It was only when Trooper Strife began changing, we, uh, recognised the results from what had happened to Major Fair and General Sephiroth.”

“Dammit, Hojo, did you meddle with any of the other vaccines?” There was a sharp edge to the president’s question, a slightly shrill tone that suggested fear. It was possibly the first time the man who owned the company had ever been faced with the potential dangers of the projects he was so keen to fund.

Something in the way the man’s jowls quivered in alarm made Veld think of a flan – and if their illustrious employer didn’t watch his diet, he would probably strongly resemble one of the shapeless, jelly-like creatures soon enough without any effort on Hojo’s part.

“Not at all, President. Such an alteration takes time, and care, and is not exactly inexpensive, either. I can assure you, I was very selective. Strife was the only one altered by that particular method.”

Something in the way he phrased that failed to reassure Veld; however, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He could feel a headache forming.

It did seem to work on the President though, as he sank back into his chair with relief. “And why did you waste such an effort on a trooper who had fairly average or lower-than-average abilities, according to this file? Especially if it is ‘expensive’?”

Hojo looked away. “I must admit, that one was… a matter of impulse.”

“Impulse?”

“Hmm. A whim, if you will.”

“And how much did this whim of yours cost me?” ShinRa demanded.

“287, 698 gil. For the initial materials. And my time and expertise, of course.”

“You -” The President seemed unable to continue, due to his shock.

Veld blinked. The full SOLDIER treatment was usually tagged at an even 1 million, but that included the specialist care, the training, and the adaptation therapy. If this cost more than a quarter of that for one shot, then it was a pretty expensive impulse.

“And can you explain how you made this impulsive decision?” he asked.

“I noticed him tagging around after Fair, who,” Hojo sniffed, “is usually found tagging after the general. I had a sample of chocobo DNA, although I hadn’t used it, because I really wasn’t sure what benefits they might have. Strong, yes, and fast, but they aren’t predators by nature. When I saw him, the resemblance was remarkable, and I thought ‘why not?’ So I switched the vaccine for my own formula.”

“Resemblance?”

“That hair of his. Quite ridiculous looking, but if he holds Major Fair as an example, I suppose that would explain it.”

Veld looked at the photo in the personnel file, where blond hair stood up in recalcitrant spikes. Chocobos. How unfortunate.

“This is all most irregular,” the President hissed. It appeared that Hojo’s previous favoured position wasn’t going to save him now. “Dr McAllister!”

“Uh, yes, Mr President, sir?”

“You will personally lead an inspection of all medicines, samples, and the like to ensure that there has been no further tampering – by anybody. Veld, assign him some of your Turks to assure he has the full cooperation of the science department.”

“Yes, sir.” The poor doctor looked rather overwhelmed, which was understandable. In addition to the medications held by his own department, the science department had a wealth of biological materials stored, either because it was relevant, or because it might be of potential interest.

“The next round of SOLDIER booster shots is due two weeks from now,” Hojo offered, with a smile. It wasn’t a helpful remark. “As I’m sure you know, doctor, we stagger them to prevent unnecessary personnel shortages. You might want to start there.” He sighed, and looked disappointed. “Really, you’re failing to see the potential in such treatments. So many creatures carry extraordinary abilities, if only we can harness them for own purposes. Tonberries, for example, can take massive amounts of physical damage. Magic affinities, strength, speed, defensive capacities – I considered using dragon DNA, but splicing reptilian genes into human is a little tricky. Still, I’m sure I’ll be able to make it work. It’s simply a matter of time.”

Dr McAllister looked horrified. The same was true of many other executives. They stared at Hojo as if he was mad – a point of view Veld had held for some time. He wasn’t happy to see a brief flicker of interest cross the President’s florid features, but it was momentary, and then he seemed to remember how angry he was. “At least we caught this before you could waste any more of my money on this ludicrous idea of yours, Hojo.”

“Oh, did you think those three were my only subjects?” Hojo asked in an arch tone, a smile spreading across his face. “Not at all, President. They are simply the ones with the most… shall we say, spectacular results.” And he began to cackle.

  


ii.

  


  
In a nearby conference room, a man with spiky black hair paced back and forth with restless energy. Every now and then, he flicked a glance at the closed double doors. Two Turks stood watch on the other side. It was probably more to keep them from being disturbed than to keep them prisoner, or anything like that – Zack knew that he and the general were more than a match for two mid-level Turks any day. But it still wouldn’t be appreciated if they did what he wanted and left, as they were there to await a possible summons by the board.

“Zack, would you sit down already?”

The SOLDIER looked at where Sephiroth sat, luxurious white tail curled around beside one leg, and grinned. Despite Sephiroth’s apparently calm demeanour, every few seconds the end of that tail lashed angrily. He wouldn’t like it when he realised, and he definitely wouldn’t like it if Zack told him that he thought he looked – well, kind of adorable with little white cat ears perched among all that silver hair and a tail with a pissy attitude.

The thought had his own tail starting up the steady metronomic beat which meant he was happy about something, and he looked back over his shoulder, giving the black-and-silver plume a rueful glance. “I would, but every time I do I end up sitting on my tail, and I can tell you, that’s not exactly comfortable. Still gotta get the hang of it, I guess.”

That made the tail give an extra fierce lash, and Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed. He’d been in a killing rage when he discovered his new features, which wasn’t to say that he didn’t want to kill Hojo on general principles the rest of the time. No, that wasn’t exactly true – usually it was Zack who wanted to kill Hojo, for everything he’d done over the years to the man he considered a friend. The discovery that Zack had acquired similar additions had offered a momentary distraction, and then made it worse. It gave the younger man a warm feeling to realise that yes, Sephiroth could get all protective over him, too, but it was an unusual position for him to be the voice of restraint amongst the two of them. It wasn’t that Zack didn’t want to kill Hojo, but he could see the wisdom of finding out if there were any other surprises lying in wait for them first.

Especially as this had been pretty damned surprising.

That thought made Zack turn to look at the third occupant of the room. Cloud perched awkwardly on the edge of a chair, paler than usual. His hair stuck to his head with dried sweat, and the usual spikes looked limp – except for a few. It made Zack feel bad about all the times he’d teased the kid, and he resolved to never tease the kid about his resemblance to a chocobo again. It wasn’t so funny now that it was quite literally true. It wasn’t immediately obvious, as they were the same light blond as the rest of his hair, but he now had a real crest of feathers decorating his head.

He also had small gold wings springing from his shoulder, the feathers a few shades darker. They twitched whenever he was startled, and as he was adapting to newly-heightened SOLDIER senses, that was often. Zack would likely be fascinated by those later, but for now he was just worried. It seemed the ultimate indignity that, due to the position of those wings, the traditional backless hospital gown was even more revealing than usual. They refused to stay tucked under it, so it gaped around them. He had a blanket wrapped around his waist, but it wasn’t clothing, and finding clothing for a teenage boy with wings was not going to be easy. And dammit, Cloud shouldn’t have been dragged from his hospital bed to some stupid conference room just on the off-chance the board might want to talk to them. It wasn’t like Cloud could tell them much; he hadn’t even been awake a full day.

That was the reason Hojo wasn’t a bloody smudge on the floor of his lab. Sephiroth had discovered his alterations, then Zack’s and they’d been making plans to deal with Hojo and acquire all relevant files when another SOLDIER had casually mentioned that the trooper Zack had befriended was in the infirmary, and so ill Hojo had been called in. Zack was grateful that Sephiroth had been willing to stick by his side while he waited to find out if Cloud was even going to survive – eight days of fever, delirium and what Zack knew personally was an uncomfortable transition from ordinary person to SOLDIER, with additions.

His tail had stopped wagging, and was actually drooping now. He was grateful for Sephiroth’s company during that vigil; their combined presence had prevented Hojo from returning to do any more damage, and although Zack had a tendency to drag Cloud along with him when he was off-duty, it would be stretching things to say that he and Sephiroth were friends. Cloud was a little awestruck by the ‘great General’ although Zack could usually get him to relax a little after awhile, and Sephiroth was just so wary around anyone new. Although they certainly had something in common now…

He crossed the room to crouch in front Cloud, slowly reaching a hand to rest on his knee so he could see it coming before he felt it. Cloud looked at him, struggling to focus properly. Zack winced; those big, blue eyes were brighter than they had been, and looked eerily blank as the pupils had contracted down to tiny pinpricks from the light. Part of the normal recovery procedure from the initial SOLDIER treatments would have seen him sitting in a dim, mostly-featureless and soundproofed room with very sturdy furniture until he’d gained some control over his new senses and strength. Zack didn’t think Cloud had even realised yet that he was much stronger than he had been, although that wouldn’t last past his first attempt to pick something up.

“You doing alright, Spike?” he asked softly, and could have kicked himself. He’d just been genetically spliced with a giant flightless bird by ShinRa’s resident mad scientist. How could he be alright?

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Cloud replied in a normal tone, then winced. When he spoke again, it was much quieter. “It’s just a little… overwhelming. Everything’s so loud, and bright, and it kind of blurs together.” He sounded a little frightened by it.

Zack sighed. “That will settle in a few days. It’s normal; usually you’d be warned about it pre-treatment.”

“Oh.” The blond shifted uncomfortably. “It feels… wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

“I wanted to be a SOLDIER, but – I didn’t earn it. It’s just – I was supposed to – It’s not right,” Cloud said helplessly.

Zack could feel Sephiroth’s gaze on them both like it was a physical touch, and hoped he was listening. Maybe it would go a way to allowing his friends to trust each other. He frowned at Cloud’s words. Becoming a SOLDIER had been Cloud’s dream; there was a touch of hero-worship in there, first for Sephiroth and then for himself, but mostly because he wanted to be someone – someone who did things, who was useful, who was needed. He’d been heartbroken when he’d been refused admission, but he’d clung to the fact he’d been told that he could try again when he was older, and after a few days of moping, he’d begun training diligently to make sure that next time he’d make it. Cloud was stronger than most people gave him credit for, and not in the physical sense. Maybe, just maybe that stubborn streak of his would get him through this.

But it must hurt to have his dream handed to him in a fashion that would forever have him questioning its worth, and that was without the stranger aspects to be taken into account.

“You’ll more than earn it over the next few months,” Zack assured him. “And don’t think you got it easy, either. You nearly died, Cloud. Hojo could have killed you with what he did; don’t make the mistake of thinking what he did was any kind of favour, because all you were to him was a lab rat.” It very nearly had killed him, but one of the medical technicians had recognised something, and insisted on shoving Cloud into one of the SOLDIER-issue mako tubes. Shots alone weren’t enough to make a SOLDIER, and Cloud’s body had tried to consume itself in the hunt for resources to make the change. “And it’s not something that can be undone, either.”

Cloud looked up, beyond Zack, and Zack could see him struggling to adjust his vision to see further. There was a rustle of clothing and movement, a click, and then the room was suddenly lit by only a few lights at the far end. The rest was plunged into shadow; Sephiroth had turned off half the lights. “Oh,” Cloud sighed, and gave a little smile. “That’s better.” His shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned his head to look around the room. He still winced away from the brighter patch at the end, but when his gaze returned to Zack once more, his pupils had widened and were no longer expanding and contracting erratically. “You’re talking about the feathers, and what he did to you and the general.” A puzzled look crossed his face. “What did he do to you and the general? How’d you end up with -”

“We both went in for our booster shots,” Zack explained. “You’ll need them too, in the future, but without any more weird additions, like this time.” He added the last as a reassurance. He didn’t think the kid needed to go in for his regular checkups in the future with the fear he’d come out with extra parts. Hell, he didn’t need that.

“Oh. Are you and… the General… okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Although Sephiroth’s a little bit pissed right now.” There was a warning growl from behind him, but Zack wasn’t worried. Sephiroth had been capable of making that sound long before he’d gained a tail, and he didn’t really mean it the way it sounded. Well, sometimes he didn’t mean it.

Cloud hunched in on himself a little, wings rustling behind him.

“You just hang in there, Spike,” Zack said bracingly, “and take it easy. You’ll get used to the whole heightened senses thing quicker than you think.” He clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder, and accidentally caught the edge of a wing with his hand. Cloud jumped, seeming to levitate almost a foot above his seat for a moment. “Uh… sorry.” Zack quickly went to sit back down on the other side of the room, and manfully bit back the yelp when he sat on his tail once again.

“Smooth, Zack, but I believe chocobos are meant to be flightless birds,” Sephiroth smirked. “No need to startle the boy into proving that wrong.”

“Oh, shut up,” Zack muttered, flushing. “Thanks for thinking of the lights, by the way.”

Sephiroth shrugged dismissively, and sat down in the chair beside Zack, his white tail settling gracefully alongside him. Zack gave its luxuriant, more co-operative length a rueful glance. Why wouldn’t his tail do that?

Silence fell, except for the occasional rustle of feathers as Cloud’s wings twitched. And the little blond wasn’t the only one who seemed a bit twitchy, because every time they rustled, Sephiroth’s eyes would flick in that direction, until eventually, Zack noticed, he was watching the boy with a steady, intent gaze.

Zack wondered if Sephiroth was wrestling with a sudden case of cat instincts, much like the canine ones which insisted that when his friend’s tail flicked about in irritation, it was an invitation to play chase-and-pounce – not the wonderful idea it first seemed, he thought ruefully, rubbing at the scratchmarks across his nose. Some reactions, it appeared, were very instinctive. “Hey, Seph,” Zack said with a nudge of his elbow, “stop looking at Spike like you’re going to eat him.”

He was only half-joking, but he was surprised by the flush of red that suddenly decorated Sephiroth’s cheeks as narrowed green eyes suddenly focused on him. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Fair. He’s barely more than a child.”

Zack’s jaw dropped, and he gave an incredulous burst of delighted laughter. “My mind’s not in the gutter, Seph, but I’m not too sure about yours. I was referring to the whole cat-and-bird thing. What did you think I was talking about?”

“Hmmph.” Sephiroth looked away, but his cheeks reddened just a little more. He moved his head in a practiced gesture that had his long bangs sliding forward, successfully hiding part of his expression from view, but that didn’t discourage Zack at all.

The black-haired soldier leaned back in his chair, a grin on his face. So that was how things were, was it? He met Cloud’s gaze across the room, and got a tentative smile in response. His tail attempted to wag, thumping loudly against the side of the chair.

Yeah, it might take some getting used to, but he was pretty sure they would be okay.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Scratch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/157051) by [mystiri1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1)
  * [Nest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/157052) by [mystiri1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1)




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